


It's worth it, right?

by endgamesheith (CynicalMistrust)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Confessions, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-24
Updated: 2018-08-24
Packaged: 2019-07-01 18:59:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15780123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CynicalMistrust/pseuds/endgamesheith
Summary: In times of need or stress, it was always Shiro’s voice that came to him, repeating some words of wisdom to help him focus and see through the crisis of the day.





	It's worth it, right?

**Author's Note:**

> First vld fic... enjoy. Post season 7 so minor spoilers

In times of need or stress, it was always Shiro’s voice that came to him, repeating some words of wisdom to help him focus and see through the crisis of the day. Some days that crisis was a Galra invasion on Earth. Other days it was finding the strength just to get out of bed in the morning, though those days were few and far between lately; the two years spent on the back of that whale with nothing to do had gone a long way in giving him the time he needed to process who and what he was. To assess his life, to find balance between the human and Galra parts of him. Or at least to stop fighting the Galra half.

Most of the time... most of the time, the words didn't even matter. Just hearing Shiro’s voice in his head was enough to calm him. But hearing him in person was always better.

The quiet rumble of Shiro’s voice drifted around Keith, tugging him out of his drugged sleep. “Why don't you go get some rest. I'll let you know if anything changes.”

Keith stifled a groan as he cracked his eyes open, turning his head to find Krolia sitting in the chair beside him, Shiro standing next to her. He smiled faintly, glad to see Shiro was back and unharmed, though even in the fading light, he looked worn. Krolia looked exhausted, and he had to wonder if she'd even left the room while he'd been drifting in and out of consciousness.

Krolia sighed, glancing to the bed and pausing when she saw Keith was awake. She smiled and stood, reaching to clasp Keith's wrist. “I could use some sleep.”

Keith smiled back, shifting his hand to squeeze back. “I'll be okay.”

She gave him a knowing look before turning, lightly patting Shiro’s shoulder on her way out.

Shiro dropped into the vacated chair. “Hey.”

Keith adjusted the bed enough he could sit up and turned his head towards Shiro. “Hey.” He reached his hand out, squeezing Shiro’s fingers when he took it. “How are the others?”

“They're good. They're with their families.” Shiro pulled the chair closer without releasing Keith's hand. “How are you doing?”

Keith hummed, looking at Shiro a long moment before responding. “I feel about as good as you look.”

Shiro laughed. “Do I look that bad or was that a sideways compliment?”

He grinned. “Both.”

Shiro glanced to the IV beside them with a chuckle. “You're drugged, aren't you?”

“Just a little.” He smiled, turning his head further into his pillow. He closed his eyes for just a second, but when he opened them again, night had settled. He sighed, irritated with how he always seemed to be losing time, though a few hours was better than years.

With a yawn, he looked towards the chair, smiling when he found Shiro still there, asleep. And snoring. He’d moved it closer, so Shiro could rest his arm on the bed, their hands still clasped. He traced his fingers against Shiro’s, marveling at the simple touch and how he didn't mind since it was Shiro. He never did mind Shiro touching him, though lately he'd been thinking he'd like Shiro to touch him more.

That desire had always been there, though he'd never recognised it for what it really was. Or rather, he hadn’t recognised when it changed. Not until those enlightening two years spent trapped with his mother, reliving the majority of both their memories. He’d felt a lot of things for Shiro through the years: gratitude for saving him, admiration, sometimes bordering on hero worship.

It’d been familial, and he hadn’t been lying when he said Shiro was like a brother to him, but it went deeper than that. And it wasn’t like he had siblings to compare it to; he’d rarely even had any friends. When it evolved into being comrades was when he first started to see Shiro as something more, but with the war and Voltron, there hadn’t been many chances for him to acknowledge it as anything more than a fear of losing the only person who’d given a shit about him since his father died.

He squeezed Shiro’s fingers and gave a gentle tug, laughing when Shiro snored loudly as he woke. “You're going to kill your back sleeping like that, old man.”

Shiro gave him a sleepy scowl and sat up. “I'm not sleeping on the floor.”

Keith tugged Shiro’s hand again. “I can make room,” he said, shifting over as far as he could and patting the bed.

Shiro raised an eyebrow. “I don't think I'll fit...”

He fought the flush as his mind took that the wrong way and sighed. “Get up here. Or I'm calling a nurse to kick you out.”

“Okay, okay.” Shiro muttered something about drugs making him cranky, which he ignored, because Shiro actually sat on the edge of the bed and carefully stretched out beside him.

Keith couldn't quite fight the way his face heated when Shiro shifted to get comfortable, resting his arm over Keith's stomach, his prosthetic settling above the pillow.

“This okay?” Shiro asked, voice quiet and muffled in Keith's hair.

He nodded and turned his head so his face pressed into Shiro’s chest, breathing in the scent of him. Like fresh soap and metal and leather. He shifted again without thinking, settling on his side. He pressed into Shiro’s chest, wrapping his arm around Shiro in return.

Shiro kept unnaturally still long enough Keith wondered if he'd gone too far, but then Shiro relaxed and curled his arm tighter, hand resting against Keith's back.

Keith hummed, tipping his head back after a moment and smiling at Shiro’s sleepy look. “All the times I've lost you,” he murmured, “I always knew I'd find a way to bring you back, but...” He trailed off, curling his fingers tight in the back of Shiro’s shirt. “How long until that luck runs out?” he whispered.

“Keith-”

“I don't want to lose you again, Shiro.” He sucked in a breath. “Not without you knowing what you really mean to me. I-... I love you, Shiro.”

Shiro blinked before a lopsided grin touched his lips. “I love you, too, Keith. You know that.”

Keith bit back a soft growl of annoyance, sliding his hand up to bury his fingers in Shiro’s hair. “I mean I _love_ you,” he said quietly, tugging Shiro closer to press their lips together.

Shiro’s eyes were comically wide when Keith broke the kiss a few seconds later. His lips moved as if trying to form words before frowning and locking eyes with Keith. His hand moved up to touch Keith's face, thumb brushing against his lower lip.

Keith shivered at the touch, resisting the urge to bite Shiro’s finger when he remained silent. Maybe it'd been a mistake to cross that line, but with everything happening and the constant threat of losing each other for good... He couldn't just let it go unspoken anymore. Even if Shiro might not feel the same.

He loosened his grip in Shiro’s hair, pulling back as he looked away. “Sorry,” he murmured. “You don't have to say anything.”

“It's not-” Shiro started, sighing as he pulled his hand away. He ran it through his hair with a soft, humorless laugh. “You know, I'm really not that great with relationships,” he murmured. “I'll always put the mission first while I still can...”

Keith nodded. “I know that. Winning this war comes first. I just... didn't want to risk losing you again without you knowing,” he said, shrugging before rolling onto his other side. He hadn't really expected Shiro to feel the same, but he'd hoped. At least Shiro knew now, knew he'd truly never give up on him, no matter how many times he had to save the idiot. Not that he thought Shiro’d ever had any doubt on that point.

Shiro was silent behind him before he let out a slow breath, reaching his hand to rest on Keith's shoulder. “Keith...”

He fought against the initial reflex to pull away from the far too familiar touch. As disappointing as it was, he refused to pull away from Shiro, refused to shut him out, to risk losing him even as a friend. “Yeah?” he asked softly.

Shiro hesitated before shifting closer, until he was pressed flush against Keith's back. “I wasn't trying to say I'm not interested, exactly,” he said slowly.

Keith blinked, turning to look back at Shiro. “What?”

Shiro flushed, looking shy for the first time Keith could remember. “I mean I know I've known you since you were like fifteen but... you've grown. And actually, I heard Pidge and Hunk talking about all the space time phenomena we've been through and... I'm pretty sure we're about the same age now, somehow,” he said with a soft laugh.

Keith stared at Shiro a moment as it slowly sank in that Shiro wasn't outright rejecting him. He grinned and pressed back more firmly into Shiro’s chest. “Are you saying you've been thinking about me?”

Shiro chuckled, burying his face in Keith's hair, though not before Keith saw the darker flush on his cheeks. “I'm always thinking about you,” he murmured. “If you're out fighting, I'm worried you're going to get hurt. And when you're away, I'm worried you won't come back. And... when you're hurt, I'm dreading the day you recover because it'll start the cycle all over again,” he whispered, wrapping his arm around Keith.

He sighed and moved his hand to Shiro’s, resting his palm over Shiro’s knuckles and threading their fingers together. “Yeah,” he murmured, unable to say anything else, because that pretty much summed up everything. That had been the one thing that almost kept him from saying anything, the thought that maybe it'd be kinder not to know what could have been, if one of them didn't make it through this war, but... “It's still worth it, right?” he asked softly, knowing Shiro knew what he really meant: Was _Keith_ worth it?

Shiro didn't respond immediately, nuzzling against Keith's hair instead and taking a deep breath. A few moments later his fingers tightened against Keith's. “Yeah,” he murmured, moving his lips to press against Keith's ear, “of course you are.”

Keith shuddered at the onslaught of sensations and emotions that burst in his chest, squeezing his eyes shut as he clutched Shiro’s hand tight enough to threaten his circulation. “I don't want to lose you, Shiro,” he whispered, voice almost breaking as he choked back the tears.

Shiro pressed closer, his breaths hot and stuttering against Keith's neck. He didn't have to say anything, his return grip was enough for Keith to know he shared the sentiment.

He wasn't sure how much time passed in silence, but eventually they relaxed towards sleep again, fingers still entwined. Shiro’s breaths had evened out, warm and steady and teasing against his skin.

It was tempting, to promise to always come back to Shiro, to always find him and save him, when he'd been doing just that for years. But that was why there was no need to say it. Shiro had saved him when he'd needed it most, shown him a different path from the one he'd been going down, was the one constant pillar of support he'd had for those few precious years. Saving Shiro’s ass when he bit off more than he could chew was the least he could do in return.

“You awake?” Keith asked, keeping his voice soft. He snorted quietly when Shiro made some unintelligible attempt to respond. “G'night,” he murmured. “Love you.” Warmth spread through him when he felt Shiro’s smile against his neck and caught the whisper of his “Love you, too, Keith.”

And despite the war raging across the entire universe, for the moment he could pretend that everything was going to be fine. Because for the moment, everything was perfect.


End file.
